Aftermath
by Natsuki
Summary: Maron and Chiaki short: when life isn't fair, the only thing to do is be with those you love. Deals with the results of Chapter 20's story and slightly afterwards. Spoilers abound.


This is set during and right after Chapter 20 of the manga, right after  
Fin's backstory is told. Spoilers abound! Keep in mind that this is another  
of those three AM fics. ^_^  
  
For Shi-chan, who has far more courage than I would ever have in fic  
writing, and Meimi-chan, whose views on characters are as matchless as they  
are beautiful. 3  
  
Disclaimer: I certainly don't have Tanemura-sensei's brilliance -- I  
/definitely/ don't own Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne.  
  
***  
  
Access's purple eyes had paled to grey and, though they were dry, they held  
none of the light that so characterized him. He simply spoke in a dead  
voice, his half-lidded gaze fixed upon some so-distant memory that bore the  
sting of recent reawakening.  
  
Celcia... Toki... everyone that she'd never known, and never met... and had  
never been able to save. Though Maron's tears had stilled to a weary,  
exhausted silence, she still felt the impact of Access's tale as a personal  
blow that added on to all the burdens of the long day's -- had it truly  
only been a single day? -- pain and heartbreak that not even Chiaki's  
warmth could dispel.  
  
/Always... always my fault./  
  
He looked at her then, blue eyes almost knowing in their depth; she had  
never really been able to hide her emotions from him. "Maron..."  
  
"It /is/ my fault. If I'd known, somehow I would've been able to help Fin.  
And then my parents would still be here, and you would never have had to be  
Sindbad and risk your life, and no-one would ever have had to worry or be  
hurt by these demons!" she said, lifting one fist to pound futilely against  
the wooden floor of Chiaki's apartment.  
  
It was caught in a strong grip before it even neared the wood, and her lips  
were caught in a kiss that, even as she struggled against it, melted away  
the self-loathing and blackness that had invaded her heart for that sharp,  
bitter moment. A heady lightness took their place: everything in her was  
focused on him until he broke away.  
  
He was looking at her, his gaze thoughtful and solemn and his face so close  
to hers. Each word was a whisper of sound, barely heard but as forceful as  
a shout. "I don't believe in regretting the past."  
  
"But..." she protested briefly, then fell silent, turning her head away  
from him. Access was still silent, brooding on things long past and actions  
not taken. An inner voice -- almost childish in its tone -- reminded her  
that she was doing the very same, and if she herself could not accept her  
past, she could not help Access forget his own guilt. "Access..." she said  
softly, inching away from Chiaki. "I..."  
  
He looked at her then, bringing his mind out of his memories and into the  
present. The ghost of a quirky smile appeared on his lips as he hovered in  
front of her. "Riru-sama always told me to live for the present and the  
future, and I would never grow old. That's why so few angels ever remember  
their human lives." A flicker of the past once again intruded upon his  
expression, darkening his eyes to near-black. "To remember would be  
dangerous, after all."  
  
"Stop it." Chiaki poked at Access, his voice and expression dry. "You're  
not helping each other at all. In fact-" He swung around to point at her,  
frowning so sternly that, in spite of her recent tears, she smothered a  
smile. "-you two are making each other worse."  
  
Maron and Access glanced at each other as one, then looked back at Chiaki  
with matching chagrined expressions. He continued blithely. "And I don't  
want my Maron upset any more."  
  
Though she felt like crying at the honesty in those words, the sheer  
impudence of the bright grin that followed them demanded a response: a  
pillow to the face with impeccable aim. "I'm fine, Chiaki. Really."  
  
"You're lying." Flatly.  
  
What had she just told herself about trying to conceal her feelings in  
front of him? She looked down at her hands, white-knuckled as she clasped  
them tightly in her lap, then looked back up at him, feeling the hot  
prickles of tears in her eyes. The world swam dizzily, and through the  
confusing knot of emotions and colors, she heard her own voice. "I'm...  
scared."  
  
Darkness came in the next moment, and vaguely she felt a warm body next to  
her own before she succumbed completely.  
  
***  
  
"Maron!" Chiaki had caught her as she fell, automatically cradling her and  
shifting so that she lay against him. "Maron..." He brushed a strand of  
hair out of her eyes, checking her temperature with an almost shaky hand.  
"Dammit, she scared me."  
  
"She's all right?" This was a worried Access, snapped out of his fugue by  
Maron's collapse.  
  
Chiaki looked at him briefly, his face carefully blank. "She's not all  
right. She's trying so hard to take the world's weight on her shoulders..."  
A weight that he would take, if only she would ask him. If only, even, she  
would allow him to help.  
  
"Sleep."  
  
"Eh?" It was so out of context that Chiaki stared at the kurotenshi for a  
moment, mind blanking.  
  
"It's late." Access pointed to the clock, ticking away the seconds. It was  
completely unaffected by the passage of so much emotion and the tale of a  
lost soul: Time was inexorable. "You need to sleep."  
  
Exhaustion made itself known in a sudden drain of energy. Chiaki nodded  
wearily and looked down at Maron. "I don't want to leave her alone  
tonight." /I don't want to be alone tonight./ He picked her up, cradling  
her head upon his shoulder. The peace that was denied her during her waking  
hours was granted in sleep: her expression was no longer taut with anguish,  
though tears had left faint trails down her cheeks. "She's going to stay  
with me."  
  
Surprisingly, Access did not react as Chiaki carried Maron to his room and  
prepared for bed, changing into an old shirt. Maron still wore the dress  
from their earlier date, and he looked at it consideringly. She couldn't  
sleep in that.  
  
Access would kill him. But... as he looked at Maron, still unconscious in  
his arms, he realized that he truly didn't care.  
  
Setting her tenderly down upon the bed, he rummaged in his closet for  
another old shirt for Maron. It would be far too long, true, but far better  
than her dress.  
  
Removing the small embroidered top exposed creamy skin, the warm light from  
the small lamp by his bedside highlighting the elegant curve of Maron's  
neck and shoulders. Chiaki gulped. He'd told himself that there was no way  
he would take advantage of her as that damned demon almost had. But the  
temptation was always there.  
  
Clearing his head with a rapid shake, he sighed. Maron stirred slightly,  
turning onto her side, a hand automatically slipping under one cheek as a  
pillow. She looked like a sleeping kitten curled up in the warmth of a  
sunbeam, and once again, Chiaki mentally twitched. There was absolutely no  
way that he could continue.  
  
"Maron..." he said, gently shaking her shoulder. "I want you to wake up."  
  
The mental image of a drowsy kitten was reinforced as, oh so slowly, Maron  
awoke, stretching tiredly. "I had the most awful dream, Chiaki..."  
  
He smiled, feeling a touch of bitterness. He couldn't deprive her of this  
momentary respite from the pain of reality, though she would have to face  
it eventually. "Aa. I don't want..." Unaccountably, he felt himself almost  
stammer. "... you to be alone tonight, Maron."  
  
She was still half-unconscious, her eyes lost in some quiet corner of her  
mind. "I'm not going to be alone," she said, fingers reaching for -- and  
finding -- the shirt he'd left for her. "I can wear this? It's nice. Soft.  
Warm. Like you."  
  
Chiaki paused at the doorway to nod at her before heading for the bathroom  
and splashing his face with cold water. Staring at his reflection in the  
mirror, he sighed. "This is going to be a long night."  
  
Access was already asleep when he returned to the room, sprawled across the  
small bed that he called his own. Maron, too, was asleep, curled up on top  
of the covers with her legs drawn up to her chest and her hair in disarray  
around her head.  
  
He gently slipped her under the covers, barely daring to breathe as she  
relaxed, slipping into a deeper sleep. As he joined her, quite conscious of  
the thin layers of fabric that were all that separated their skin, he  
marvelled at the trust she'd shown him in this small motion.  
  
With that thought firmly in mind, Chiaki drew her closer and drifted off to  
sleep.  
  
**Owari**  



End file.
